I know now that I’ll never be an astronaut. I’ll never represent my country in an international sporting challenge. I’ll never leave a legacy or mark a position in history with a greatness or achievement. I have touched people and influenced, glancing into lives where I might leaving a shadow of someone in a mind. Others have loved me, needed me and cared for me. But they will also pass and their lives and my existence, because my existence is only real because of my appearance in other people’s lives, that will also disappear. My worth becomes the experiences I have; a rag-bag collection of events and emotions, there being no other form of experience, which jumble together to form my story so far, a seemingly pointless and heterogeneous pile of experiences. There only direction being a passage way through which I proceed toward the end.
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